


Banana Bread

by GemmaRose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Fluff, Gen, Punk Hunk (Voltron), Tattooed Hunk (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-27 20:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Keith has been volunteered to make something for the Student Council Bake Sale. One problem. Keith can't bake.





	Banana Bread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mikiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikiri/gifts).



“I may need some help.” Keith said as soon as he heard the call connect.

“With what?” Hunk asked, sounding nervous. “Are you in trouble? I can be anywhere in town in like fifteen minutes, ten if I break the rules a bit.”

“What, no.” Keith felt his face scrunch up at the prospect of Hunk running red lights on his motorcycle. “I just, uh...” he looked at the disaster zone which was the kitchen counter, and winced. “Can you bake?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Would you be willing to come over and help me make something for the bake sale?” Keith asked, the words coming out in a rush.

“Oh, sure!” Hunk said brightly. “Be there in ten.” he hung up, and Keith pulled his phone away from his ear to stare at the screen. Thirty seconds. God, he hated making phone calls, his heart was pounding like he’d just finished a mile in gym and all he’d done was have a thirty second conversation. No, not even thirty seconds, because that counted the ringing time too. And now he had to wait for Hunk to get here from the other end of the school district, which meant more time for his brain to kick into overdrive and worry about nothing.

At least, it was probably nothing. For all that he looked and dressed like a thug and hung out with a rougher crowd, Hunk was surprisingly sweet. Keith shook his head, and checked his phone again for the time. Still nine minutes until Hunk was supposed to get here. Keith looked despairingly at the mess he’d made of the kitchen, and sighed. He may as well get at least the floor cleaned up, so the cat didn’t end up tracking flour all over the house.

He was he’d finally gotten all the powder in the dustpan and was bringing it to the trash when the doorbell rang, making him startle. He promptly inhaled a lungful of flour and various other particulates, and spent a good minute coughing before he could compose himself enough to prop the broom up against the wall and rest the dustpan atop the trash can. “Coming!” he called out, dusting his hands on his pants and grimacing as that did precisely nothing.

The door, when he opened it, revealed the smiling face of one Hunk Garrett on the other side. The smile dropped almost immediately, replaced by first confusion and then the pinched look of someone trying not to laugh. “Thank god you’re here.” Keith sighed, stepping aside to let him in.

“What did you _do_?” Hunk snorted, following Keith through the living and dining rooms to the kitchen. He stopped at the threshold, and Keith tried not to pout at the poorly stifled giggles.

“I followed the recipe.” he complained, and Hunk broke down laughing.

“Are you sure about that?” he giggled, and Keith crossed his arms.

“Yes.” he waited a few seconds, then frowned harder. “Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hunk gasped, bracing himself with one hand on his knee and waving the other somewhat apologetically. “I’m good.” he straightened up, wiping at his eyes and grinning wider than Keith had ever seen him. Despite the leather jacket and ripped up jeans, he looked more approachable than most of the student council.

“What were you trying to make?” he asked, looking around the disaster zone.

“Banana bread.” Keith admitted. “Ez suggested it.”

“Well, since all you wasted was dry ingredients, it won’t take long to get back on track.” Hunk shrugged off his jacket, and Keith couldn’t help but stare. Everyone knew Hunk had tattoos, their uniform shirts weren’t thick enough to entirely conceal the ink on his arms, but he’d never had a gym class with the guy so this was his first time actually seeing them.

“Where do you guys keep your mixing bowls and baking utensils?” Hunk asked, and Keith quickly looked away so he wouldn’t be caught staring.

“Uh, baking tools are mostly in the drawers across from the sink.” he said, gesturing at them. “I’ll grab the bowls.”

“We’ll only need two.” Hunk said, and Keith nodded as he crouched to pull them out. When he straightened up Hunk was dumping the bowl of failed dry ingredient mix out into the trash, and he carefully wiped a bit of counter clean to put the mixing bowls down on.

“Alright.” Hunk set the floury bowl down, and turned to rifle through the drawers. “Think you can measure out the dry ingredients without making another mess, Mr. Mathlete?”

“I can measure them just fine.” Keith huffed, picking up the measuring cups. “It’s mixing that sent everything to shit.”

Hunk chuckled, and Keith ducked his head as he dutifully measured out the flour and sugar. He should’ve insisted Ezzie make her own banana bread if she wanted some at the bake sale that bad and put himself in charge of something that didn’t involve actually _making_ food. He turned to reach for the baking soda, and froze in place. Everyone knew Hunk was the strongest guy in school, matched only by Zethrid, queen of the wrestling ring, but that wasn’t evident at a glance with him the way it was with her. Keith had personally thought it was a rumour started by Hunk’s friend group to capitalise on his size and reputation, but now... 

“Keith?” Hunk waved a hand in front of his face. “Hellooo?”

Keith shook his head, dragging his eyes from Hunk’s beautifully defined and decorated biceps. “Sorry, spaced out.” he fibbed. “Can you pass me the baking soda?”

“Oh, sure.” Hunk passed it over, along with the salt and measuring spoons. “When you’re done with that, could you grab a one cup liquid measure?”

“What for?” Keith frowned.

“The recipe says to use softened butter, but I’ve always gotten the best results from melting it first, so you’re going to nuke it for thirty while I finish the bananas.”

“Thirty seconds, right?” Keith frowned, chancing a glance at Hunk. His tattoos shifted slightly as he worked, muscles rippling under his dark skin and making the patterns appear to move.

“Yeah, that.” Hunk nodded, and Keith tore his eyes away from the near-hypnotic movement of Hunk’s tattooed arms to fetch a glass measuring cup. He dropped a stick of butter in it, and started the microwave running before stepping back to, well, he meant to keep an eye on the butter but instead he wound up watching Hunk. How did a guy as soft as him get arms that looked like they belonged on a Greek statue?

The microwave’s beep startled Keith from his thoughts and he pulled the measuring cup out with a hiss. “Warm, warm, warm.” he said quickly, not bothering to clear the flour away before setting it down on the counter.

“Microwaves tend to do that.” Hunk chuckled, setting aside the thing he'd been using to mash the bananas into a fine paste and picking up a whisk. He cracked the eggs into the bowl one-handed with the confidence of someone who had done it a million times, and Keith tried not to stare at his arms as he beat the eggs into the banana mush. He only mostly succeeded.

“Alright, so when I say so, you start pouring the butter in here slowly.” Hunk said, measuring out the vanilla extract. Keith nodded, and this time used the floured hem of his shirt to protect his fingers from the heat. Hunk dumped the dark, fragrant liquid into the mush of egg and banana, and Keith shuffled closer as Hunk whisked the mess vigorously. “Okay, now.”

Keith lifted the measuring cup of butter, resting it on the edge of the bowl as he tilted it to pour a thin stream of golden melted lipid into what was looking more and more like goop. It was all mixed in soon enough, and Hunk grinned at him. He managed a smile back, and Hunk reached past him to grab the bowl of dry ingredients.

“Okay, now I'm gonna need you to add the dry mix slowly. A quarter cup at a time should do it.”

Keith grabbed the quarter cup measure, and let Hunk demonstrate how to tap it against the side to level it off. It was nearly impossible to ignore Hunk’s arms when they were so close to his face, but somehow Keith managed it. Hunk dumped the last dregs into the bowl himself, and Keith looked down at what was now looking a lot more like some kind of batter.

“Are you sure this is right?” he asked, prodding at the mixture. “I thought bread dough was supposed to be less, gooey.”

“Well, normal bread yeah.” Hunk said, setting down his mixing utensil. “But banana bread is more of a dense, loaf shaped cake, so before baking it's more of a batter.”

“Huh.” Keith looked at the goop clinging to his fingertip, and gave it a cautious lick. “It tastes good!” he exclaimed, and Hunk laughed. He had a nice laugh.

“I'm not surprised. It's full of fat and sugar.”

“Well, we should probably get the loaf pan ready, right?” Keith asked, and Hunk shook his head. 

“If this is for a bake sale, you'll want muffins.” Hunk said confidently.

“Then why did we just spend, like, half an hour making banana bread dough?” Keith scowled.

“Because we’re making banana bread muffins!” Hunk beamed. “You do have a muffin tray, right?”

“Uh, maybe?” Keith frowned.

“Help me find them.”

Keith directed Hunk to the most likely place they’d be, and started looking in less likely drawers and cabinets. “I think I found them.” he said in the second cabinet, pulling out what looked like a baking sheet with regular divots in it. Or rather, two of them nested inside each other. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, holding the metal trays up.

“Ooh, mini-muffins!” Hunk sounded absolutely delighted as he snatched the trays from Keith’s hand. “And these are nice teflon pans, too. Your folks have good taste in kitchenware.”

Keith shrugged, kneeing the cabinet shut as he rose to his feet. “So, what, we fill those with the dough and stick them in for-” he paused and looked at the recipe he’d printed out at the library. “Fifty five minutes?”

“God, no.” Hunk chuckled. Keith would honestly be upset about how much he was getting laughed at today if it didn’t make Hunk’s face light up so wonderfully. “Fifty five minutes, they’d be hard as rocks. You gotta remember the surface area to volume ratio.” he set one of the pans on the counter, and held the other over the sink with one hand, the other going out to grab the cookie spray.

“Oh, right.” Keith said lamely. Hunk sprayed the first baking sheet, then the second, and Keith loitered awkwardly in his own kitchen as Hunk filled each divot halfway with the bread dough. It was, an unusual experience, to see Hunk so completely focused on something. He was never this focused in any of the classes Keith shared with him, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder why.

“That should do it.” Hunk said at length, and Keith startled to realize he’d completely spaced out watching Hunk work. “Keith, can you set a timer on your phone for half an hour? If they’re not done then, we’ll start checking in half hour intervals.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Keith pulled out his phone and navigated through the lock screen into the timer app. Thirty minutes, set and started, and h tucked it back in his pocket as Hunk straightened up from putting the muffins in the oven. “So...” he trailed off, uncertain how to start a conversation with someone whose number he only had through sheer coincidence. Crap, he had to spend the next half hour with Hunk and he couldn’t even start a simple conversation? “We should clean up.” he blurted, and Hunk nodded seriously.

“And when maybe when the muffins are done, we can watch some TV or something?” Hunk suggested. “I mean, there’s enough batter for another tray.”

“That sounds nice.” Keith smiled, and Hunk’s answering grin fairly knocked his feet out from under him. God, did this mean they were friends now? He’d never had a handsome friend before. Pretty friends, sure, but Hunk was more than just pretty. Even with tattoos and multiple piercings and ratty, ripped up clothes, he was the kind of handsome that the girls on the student council gossiped about.

“Oh, hey Ruby.” Hunk cooed, bending down to pick up Keith’s cat. She purred, rubbing her head against his chin. “Miss me?” he teased, scratching under her chin, and Keith couldn’t help but smile. If Ruby liked Hunk enough to remember him after such a short stay at the pet place, then Keith didn’t have much say in the matter. They were going to be friends, or Ruby would never leave him alone.


End file.
